Inner Death
by Xaja Silversheen
Summary: He hates me, I'm sure of it. Obi-Wan's feelings about his Master's percieved rejection of him. Set JA era, slightly AU. Fairly intense, rating may change with the story. ***NOW COMPLETE***
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I, regretfully, do not own anything related to Star Wars. If I did, Obi-Wan would be my personal bodyguard. It isn't mine and I am making no money off of this. (Charitable donations for a better computer would help though… ha ha)**

**This story is done by me taking a breather from my Lord Of The Rings fanfic "Seriously? Why Me?" while I cope with writer's block, halfway through Moria. To my regular readers, I swear I'll update that one soon! Honest!**

**Feedback is appreciated! **

He slumped down on his sleep couch, letting his posture slip. The inner agony over the last couple of months was overwhelming.

His Master despised him. He was sure of it.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been a Padawan apprentice for all of two months, and was already wondering if life would have been better in the Agri-Corps. At least there he didn't cope with the feelings of rejection by the one person in the entire galaxy he was bound to. He just would have faced with rejection from the Temple.

At that particular moment, Temple rejection looked like the lesser of two evils.

_Why does he hate me? Am I that pathetic and useless? Why did he even take me as an apprentice? A temporary respect that was overruled when he bonded me?_ The pain redoubled, making him gasp. It hurt so bad… not that his cold distant Master would care.

Qui-Gon Jinn had barely spoken to Obi-Wan since they had returned to the Temple after their first missions. Unlike what the teen knew about Jedi Masters and what they should do, Qui-Gon had not made any effort to strengthen the bond they shared. Where there should have been a connection filled with trust and love, there was a gaping, cold void. And somehow, Obi-Wan got the distinct feeling that he was the cause of it.

_He wouldn't hate someone for no reason, would he? Then what did I do to earn this dislike? How could I have done something to displease him without knowing what it was I'd done?_ It didn't make sense. But then, nothing about his new Master made any sense.

Bant and Garen wouldn't understand. They would say that he should just open up, get to know his Master more. But how could he when Qui-Gon never spent very long in the same room as his Padawan? Was he that despicable? He could never do anything to his strict Master's standards.

The very reason he was in his room could be explained by Qui-Gon getting frustrated with having to teach the same kata moves over and over again, with no comprehension from his apprentice. It wasn't Obi-Wan's fault that the kata in question usually wasn't perfected until a Jedi reached the rank of Knight, but Qui-Gon didn't seem to care. He had eventually called off the training session and ordered his Padawan to their apartment to meditate. Obi-Wan had tried the meditation, but it hadn't seemed to work. Even the Force seemed to be working against him.

He lay flat on his couch, for the first time feeling the soft gurgling of his stomach. Glancing at the time, he realized it was past dinner time. Not that he cared. He didn't think he could get a mouthful of food down if he tried.

An idea occurred to him. What if Qui-Gon noticed something was wrong? Would he worry about Obi-Wan and actually pay attention to him, or would he just ignore it? The teen wanted, more then anything at the moment, to actually feel his Master's concern for him. Maybe if something happened to him…

_Nah. He doesn't care about me_. With that thought in mind, Obi-Wan rolled over and fell into an uneasy sleep. Maybe things would be better in the morning.

***

A knocking noise sounded in the narrow hallway he stood in. It echoed around him, calling, mocking. Obi-Wan flinched, trying to find somewhere to escape the pounding within the cold corridor.

His Master stood at the end, calling him. _Obi-Wan!_ The teen started running to Qui-Gon but found his legs hampered by something… it was like running through quicksand. He couldn't reach his Master. He felt the older Jedi's disapproval. _Try harder! That is not acceptable! You are a Jedi!_

_But Master, I can't!_ Obi-Wan kept straining through his invisible bonds, hearing Qui-Gon calling his name. _Obi Wan… Obi-Wan…_

"Obi-Wan!" The teen jerked himself awake, his blankets tangled around himself, drenched in sweat. Qui-Gon stood at the door, one eyebrow raised, arms crossed in front of his chest. "It is already 7:30! You should already be up!"

Shooting a quick glance at his clock, Obi-Wan sat up, rubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Master. It won't happen again."

Qui-Gon nodded. "See that it doesn't. Do your morning meditations and head to class after you get something to eat. I do not want to hear any comments from Master Yrach about decreasing performances in class."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan untangled his legs from his sheets, dragging himself out of bed. He paused only long enough to straighten the rumpled blankets and grab his lightsabre from the nightstand before brushing by Qui-Gon and kneeling in the common room, opening himself to the Force. He thought about his nightmare, allowing his lingering alarm to drain into the Force along with his still-present pain. At least the fear from the dream went away. The pain seemed attached to him.

Was there nothing that would relieve this Sith-cursed burden? What could Obi-Wan possibly do to earn his Master's attentions?

He finished his meditations, showered and dressed before racing out the door. He didn't have time for breakfast and still didn't think he could stomach a mouthful anyways. Maybe I'll just starve to death. Will he even notice?

Starving to death looked like a possibility, today.

***

By lunchtime, Obi-Wan's stomach was starting to complain about the lack of nutrients, but its owner didn't care. He figured that negative attention from his Master was better then no attention at all, and starvation wouldn't go unnoticed, even by the most obtuse person...

He forsook the main dining area where he knew his friends would be, retreating to one of the Temple's many gardens with a datapad. He would use the pretense of studying if someone came looking for him. However, he couldn't concentrate on his psychology notes and was soon numbly staring into the distance, not really seeing, his thoughts focused on his cold-hearted Master.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of a gimmer stick tapping the ground near him. Only one person in the Temple used a gimmer stick, and Obi-Wan knew he wouldn't be able to pretend everything was all right around that one person. _Please don't come near me, please leave me alone, please…_

"Missed you at the meal, your friends did." Master Yoda limped his way to where Obi-Wan was sitting, fixing the teen with an inquisitive stare. "Troubled you are, young Obi-Wan. Harbour it, you must not, or in you the Dark Side will grow."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan forced himself not to fidget. "I just wanted to study for my next class without dealing with the racket from the dining hall." He felt bad for lying to the Master, but… Yoda wouldn't understand the issue named Qui-Gon Jinn… would he?

_Besides_, rationalized Obi-Wan, _I do have a test today that I need to study for. Qui-Gon would want me to keep my grades up._

"Hmm." Yoda frowned at Obi-Wan, one large ear twitching. "And how fare you with your Master?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. "All right."

The other ear twitched. "Merely all right, hmm? A rift I sense between you two. Close are you, to him?"

"As close as I suppose a Master and Padawan ought to be."

"And how close is that?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. He thought Qui-Gon was being a normal Master until he saw the way his friends acted around their own teachers. He knew Garen was very close to his Master Clee Rhara, close enough that he trusted her with anything, and he knew the Master thought very highly of her Padawan. Qui-Gon had never shown any affection to Obi-Wan like Garen and his Master shared.

Yoda sensed Obi-Wan's distress. "Right, this treatment of you by your Master is not. Talk to him, you should. Intervene I will, if worse it gets."

Obi-Wan got to his feet, bowing. "Thank you, Master." He looked at his chrono. "Oh no, I'm going to be late for my next class!"

"Run along then, young Padawan." Yoda's sleepy eyes focused on Obi-Wan. "Remember, young one, Qui-Gon's first Padawan you are not. Under the shadow of another are you being judged." He turned from the confused teen and knelt in meditation under the same tree Obi-Wan had leant against not three minutes before.

Obi-Wan forced himself to turn from Yoda and move to his next class, his mind racing. _But… I know about Xanatos! He left the Order years ago! How can Qui-Gon still think about him more than me?_

He just got to his psychology class when the warning bell rang, signaling the beginning of the lesson. Or in this case, the test about common mental disorders. _Here's hoping I did enough studying!_

***

He wearily entered through the apartment door later on that night, sporting numerous burns from sabre practice before dinner, courtesy of Bruck Chun. He hadn't had the time to treat the wounds, but didn't care. They didn't hurt.

Qui-Gon looked up from his meditative position on the couch. "You're late, Padawan."

"Sorry, Master. Garen and I were talking about the new line of starfighters that the Senate has purchased and we lost track of time."

Qui-Gon nodded, then took a glance at the burns across the teen's arms. "You had better get some bacta on those burns, Obi-Wan." He waited for his apprentice's answering nod before inquiring, "I heard you had a psychology test today. How did that go?"

Obi-Wan smiled briefly. "All right." In truth, he had just barely squeaked past. However, he didn't want to tell his Master that. _Just another reason for him to be displeased with me_.

"Hmm." Qui-Gon nodded again before looking at the wall-mounted chromo. "It's late and the Council has a mission for us tomorrow. They will be giving us a briefing first thing in the morning, so I highly recommend you get some sleep before then."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan turned towards his room as the older man turned back to his meditation, the pain renewed at the abrupt dismissal. _Not even a 'Good night, Obi-Wan, sleep well'? I suppose it's too much to ask for from this Master._

He softly hissed as he pulled his night tunic over the wounds on his arms. They stung with a fierce fire, reminding him of the humiliation of Bruck soundly beating him in front of dozens of other Padawans and Masters. Hit with a sudden lack of desire to do anything about his wounds (_wounds I probably deserve for being so slow and stupid_), he finished dressing and crawled into bed. The meager dinner he'd eaten hadn't been nearly enough for his loudly complaining stomach, but the teen didn't care. He just wanted to go to sleep and shut the pain out forever.

His sleep that night wasn't much better than last night's. If anything, it was worse.

**I may continue working on this some more, depending on reviews (or lack thereof)… Don't be too expectant though, this chapter alone was hard to write!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Much though I'd like to take over Star Wars and make it go the way I want it to, it ain't mine. Sob. Just wait until I regain my One Ring that allows me unlimited copyrights to all great stories! (For those of you who did not get that, read "Seriously? Why Me?" Currently Samwise Gamgee has it…)**

**By the way, I'd like to mention that the first chapter of this story has earned more reviews and alerts then the first several chapters of my LOTR story! Thank you to all my fans! You rock!**

**OK, now to the actual story… Hopefully it's as good as the first chapter!**

Obi-Wan wearily sank onto a hard chair, struggling to keep his emotions in check. This time, Qui-Gon wasn't entirely to blame.

They had just returned from their mission to Lavisar, settling a dispute between two rival families. It wouldn't have gone too badly, except that Obi-Wan had made a crucial blunder during an espionage excursion. The peace keeping plans had blown up in the Jedi's faces, resulting in a huge gunfight that left six civilians dead and many others wounded. Qui-Gon had barely spoken to the teen since, a cold fury radiating from the older man that Obi-Wan could feel, even without the bond in place.

The Master hadn't been the only one angry with Obi-Wan though. After the battle, one of the surviving heirs to one family, a boy in his late teens, had taken it upon himself to inform the young Jedi just how much of a failure he was, and how much better he would be doing some mindless task in the Agri-Corps. Obi-Wan hadn't been able to escape without appearing to be even more of a failure, so he had been forced to remain still, allowing the torrent of verbal abuse to swarm over him, penetrating his brain. He had politely bowed when the man had run out of steam and walked away, holding his head high while feeling his inner being wither away. _Like the perfect Jedi that I am not!_

Yoda himself had met the Jedi team upon their return to the Temple. He had locked eyes with Obi-Wan for a moment before turning to Qui-Gon, allowing the teen to respectfully bow and go to his quarters. He was grateful for that, at least. He didn't want to hear his Master telling the Galaxy's most powerful Jedi about what a failure he was.

He knelt on the floor of the common room, his preferred place to meditate. He knew Qui-Gon would want him to think on his mistake and didn't want to do anything else that might possibly displease the already angry Jedi. He closed his eyes, trying to allow the Force to flow through him, relieving him of his agony and guilt.

The meditation didn't work as he had hoped. For instead of the feelings being released into the Force, they remained stubbornly bottled up inside of him, a festering wound that he couldn't heal. He kept reliving the moments of those innocent civilians dying, including Daran, a younger boy he had become friends with. The grief, anger, guilt and self-loathing all built up, causing tears to fall from his closed eyes. He was shaking from the pain but couldn't make it stop.

"Obi-Wan." The voice, cold with displeasure, drew him out of his trance. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Qui-Gon standing above him, looking every bit as angry and disappointed as it had on the flight back to Coruscant.

The teen lowered his head, a sign of shame. "Master."

"Yoda does not believe I need to speak with you about what transpired on Lavisar." The words were cold, precise, inflicting pain as easily as a blade. "I will respect his judgment in this matter."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan kept his head down, too ashamed to meet his Master's stony gaze.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Padawan."

The teen forced himself to look into Qui-Gon's eyes. "Yes, Master." He could hear the dullness of his own voice, in comparison to the harshness of the other Jedi's.

"You will remain confined to quarters for a month. I expect to see you in your spare time either studying or meditating on your folly. I do not expect to ever have this conversation again."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan didn't care that he sounded like a broken holo-recording. What else could he say? He definitely didn't want to anger his Master any farther.

Qui-Gon nodded tersely. "Go to your room and meditate. I do not wish to see you for the rest of the night."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan got to his feet and trudged back to his own room, feeling his Master's disapproving glare directed at his back. He didn't dare stop to speak, but sent the thought along their weak bond, /I'm sorry/. As he expected, he got no reply.

In his room, he shoved his pack, still containing his few possessions he had taken on the mission, under his bed, not feeling the urge to put anything away. Something shiny fell out, and he bent to investigate it.

It was a small dagger, made of steel, sharp as a razor. It had been a gift from Daran before the gunfight broke out. It now glimmered in the dim light, reflecting Obi-Wan's sorrowful face on the smooth surface. He twirled the knife around on his fingers, hissing as the blade slipped, effortlessly tracing a clean line down his arm. The skin was soon red with blood.

Obi-Wan looked at the blood, unconsciously checking to make sure his mental shields were well up. He did _not_ want Qui-Gon seeing this. He wasn't sure why, but he felt it would anger his Master even more. It was a dread he could neither explain nor shake off.

He studied the way the red fluid traced its way down his arm, crossing over the older lightsabre scars. He hadn't bothered to put any bacta on those wounds, allowing them to heal on their own. They were still scabbed over; indeed, a couple had reopened from the knife's impromptu journey through the new skin. But the fiery pain was something he welcomed; it distracted him, as least for a moment, from the emotional agony. And the knife wound…

It was doing the same thing as the lightsabre injuries. The pain seemed to be ebbing away with the bleeding. It made him feel… good… in a guilty sort of fashion. Something in the Force was pricking at him, trying to warn him of something, but the blessed relief from the mental wounds was so overpowering, Obi-Wan didn't bother listening. _The Force hasn't helped me, anyways. Why should I listen to it?_

Footsteps sounded outside his door. He quickly hid the knife in the folds of his tunic, kneeling in a meditative stance. Quickly settling into a trance, he became aware of Qui-Gon opening the door and poking his head into the room. Evidently satisfied that his wayward Padawan was obeying him, for once, the Master retreated, unaware that Obi-Wan had sensed his every move and his lack of comfort.

_I know what I did was stupid! I'm sorry! Why won't he accept that? Force, what do I have to do to show him it was just a stupid mistake that got out of control? Another mission and he probably wouldn't have noticed! Does he truly hate me that much? Can he not trust me one iota?_ Obi-Wan checked the last statement; he didn't even trust himself. No wonder his Master didn't have any faith in him, especially after that mission. _I am such a failure. Qui-Gon would be better off if I wasn't here. Would he even care if I were to die?_

His stomach roared. He hadn't eaten anything for the last two days. If he were to be honest, he didn't care. He had no desire to even continue living. He drew the knife out of his tunic again, reverently holding the blade near him. The sharp edge rested on his skin, just touching the veins visible in his wrist.

He tightened his grip on the dagger. He could do it. He could rid the Galaxy of the worst nuisance to ever exist. He could relieve his Master of the obviously unwanted burden placed in his care. Yoda said this relationship was unhealthy, and Obi-Wan placed the blame squarely on his own shoulders. It would be better for everyone involved…

The thought of Yoda made him hesitate. Would the Jedi Master advise this choice? Would Obi-Wan fail his idol like this?

_No_, he finally decided. _I cannot take this route; at least, not until I have no other choice. I will not fail Master Yoda._ He hid the knife under his mattress, shaking. He could not believe he had nearly committed an action no self-respecting Jedi would dare to do. Trembling from the emotional overload, he crawled into bed, not bothering to change. As an afterthought, he used the Force to turn off his light.

The darkness swarmed over him, suffocating, inviting with its promises of relief and freedom. Obi-Wan moaned, trying to evade the whispers of the shadows. _Join the Force! Be at rest!_

_I cannot! It would displease Master Yoda!_

_Since when has Yoda thought anything of you? Would any Jedi acknowledge your death? You are not loved and you know it!_

_Shut up! Leave me alone! Just go away!_

_Go away? Ha! We will never go away, little Jedi! You will never be free of us unless you join us!_

_No!_ Obi-Wan brought his pillow over his head, trying desperately to drown out the voices.

The last thing he heard before the nightmares took him was, _You will come to us, eventually. We will have you._

**I know, Qui-Gon is a little harsher in my story then in the books and movie, but I still needed him to be fairly nasty. And in any case, he wouldn't have been thrilled with Obi-Wan after a screw-up like that. Heck, I wouldn't be very happy with myself if I did that.**

**Love it? Hate it? Wishing for me to go jump in a lava pit? Green button, bottom of the page… Click it! I love reviews! You make my day! Many thanks to all those who have already reviewed and favorite-ed it! You rock!**

**To be continued…**

**/XS\ **


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: *tackles Qui-Gon, who stole it from Sam, and takes back the Ring* FINALLY! My One Ring that allows me all copyright powers! YES!!! *Obi-Wan decks me and makes off with the Ring* Curses!!**

**Alright, until I find one certain Padawan, he owns the copyrights to all recognizable characters. Anyone you don't recognize is of my own creation.**

**Grr. Argh.**

_Two weeks later…_

Obi-Wan hissed as he pulled a fresh tunic over his head, settling it gingerly over the numerous cuts on his forearms. His stained clothes were thrown into the laundry chute to be cleaned by the droids in the lower levels of the Temple. The pants, luckily, had survived the re-entry of Obi-Wan's lunch into the world.

He hadn't been able to eat a decent meal for the last three weeks without feeling decidedly nauseous. He had normally been able to disguise this from everyone around him by picking at his food and disposing of it when no one was looking. However, today Qui-Gon had kept a close eye on everything that went into the teenager's mouth, forcing him to eat almost half the plateful before his stomach rebelled. He had barely made it to the refresher in time to keep from permanently staining the apartment décor.

He glanced at the chromo on the wall. _12:47?! Oh no, I'm going to be late for lightsabre class!_ Master Drallig was very strict about when his classes started. His students were usually late only once in their entire Temple training before learning to even sacrifice time with other teachers to be at class on time. Obi-Wan had a flawless record so far in Master Drallig's class, and didn't intend to spoil it. Double-checking to make sure his tunic sleeves covered the scars from his knife, he fastened his obi and belt around his waist, grabbed his lightsabre and hurried out of his room.

Qui-Gon caught his upper arm before he could make good his escape from the apartment. "Wait a moment, Padawan."

Obi-Wan hesitated, anxiously glancing at the chromo. "I'm going to be late for lightsabre class, Master. Master Drallig will not be pleased if that happens."

"He will understand if I am the reason you are tardy." Qui-Gon's icy blue gaze caught Obi-Wan's, not permitting him to look away. "Is anything the matter, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to fidget. "No, Master, everything is as fine as can be expected. Why do you ask?"

"Your friends and other teachers have noticed something wrong with you. You've withdrawn from your friends, you barely speak anymore to anyone, your grades have slipped, you're not eating. What's the matter?" If Obi-Wan didn't already know his Master hated him, he would have sworn he saw worry and compassion in the dark blue depths.

_Nah. He doesn't like me enough to care about me._ "Nothing's wrong, Master, just… hormones, I guess." _That's got to be a valid excuse!_

Qui-Gon studied him for a whole minute. Obi-Wan couldn't tell if his stone-faced Master bought the hormone excuse, but he didn't have time to find out. "Master, I really am going to be late for class!" The older Jedi appeared to be startled out of his thoughts by Obi-Wan's somewhat rude interruption, but nodded and released his shoulder. The teen immediately moved towards the door, intent on getting to class as soon as possible to avoid a confrontation with Master Drallig. _Or am I avoiding another Qui-Gon related issue?_

***

He mentally cursed as he approached the training hall's door. He was a full five minutes late. _Thank you, Master!_ He was glad Qui-Gon wouldn't hear the sarcastic comment.

Master Drallig stood at the front of the class, giving instructions. He paused and frowned at Obi-Wan. "Late, Kenobi. My class starts one hour after lunch, not one hour and five minutes."

"I'm sorry. Master Jinn wanted to talk to me." Obi-Wan bowed, not daring to lift his head until the tide of Master Drallig's wrath had passed.

"Fair enough, Kenobi. I'll speak with your Master about this. In the meantime, the entire class will be going over katas one through fifteen. You will take the position by my Padawan, Zara."

Obi-Wan bowed again before swiftly walking down the line until he reached the end, taking a position by Zara, a petite human girl. At 5'1" Standard Measurement with vivid red hair and bright green eyes, she was the complete opposite of her Master. She shot Obi-Wan a brief grin as she tied her shoulder length hair back, mindful to leave her long braid out.

Obi-Wan drew his lightsabre, igniting it along with the rest of the class. Sneaking a look down the line, he could see Garen and Bant settling into the ready position, gathering the Force around themselves. Bruck Chun stood nearby, sending a sneer in Obi-Wan's direction. A Force-swat from Master Drallig redirected his energies to the upcoming katas.

Picturing the first kata in his mind, Obi-Wan held his lightsabre in the ready position. He paused, letting the Force build up around him, waiting for Master Drallig to give the order to begin.

"Go." The tall Master had to step a few paces away from his class as a dozen lightsabres charged in his direction, albeit on low power. Blades of blue and green moved in near-perfect synchronization, deflecting attacks from the imagined enemies.

Obi-Wan kept in perfect time until he reached the last kata of the drill, one he had just started learning and barely knew. Zara, who had up to this point been in time with Obi-Wan, slowed her pace just enough for the other teen to follow her. _It figures; she'd know almost every kata, being the Padawan of the current Weapons-Master!_ The thought did nothing to diminish Obi-Wan's shame at having to follow a girl several months younger then he through a kata he was expected to know.

The two finished the kata, slowly rising from their last stances to the beginning position. Obi-Wan felt a mild wave of surprise when he first realized that everyone else was still stumbling through the other katas, and that Master Drallig had been watching himself and Zara. The Master nodded. "Well done, Zara. One day you'll be better at that kata then I am."

Zara blushed. "Never, Master."

Master Drallig smiled and patted the girl's shoulder before turning to Obi-Wan. "You didn't know that last kata?"

Obi-Wan felt the shame roll in again. "No, Master."

Master Drallig nodded, stone faced. "That can be easily changed. If you can get that last kata to the level of your other katas, you will end up better at that one then your own Master." He smiled at Obi-Wan's obvious surprise. "Yes, better then Master Jinn. Don't tell him I said so, but don't ever let him attempt to teach you katas fifteen through twenty. If anything, you will learn less."

"Master Drallig? No offence, but I thought Master Jinn was reputed to be one of the best."

"Ah, you also have fallen into the myth that Master Qui-Gon Jinn is the epitome of the perfect Jedi?"

"Yes, Master… I've never seen him do anything wrong."

Given enough time, young Kenobi, you will see that everyone makes mistakes. Your master is no exception to the rule, despite what he may want everyone else to believe. I have not doubt believing you will be a better Jedi then he is, whether in diplomacy or sword-skills. Kata fifteen is a difficult kata to master, particularly when one is still growing and not in full control of their hands and feet. You have done very well for someone your age."

"T-thank you, Master." Obi-Wan bowed, stunned by the praise from the strict Master. _I'm getting more positive attention from the Weapons-Master then I am from Qui-Gon!_ The irony was sickening.

Master Drallig smiled again, a rare occurrence for someone other then his cherished Padawan. "If you want advice in improving your katas, come talk to me or Zara. We'd be pleased to help." With that, he turned away to the other students, leaving a shocked Obi-Wan in his wake.

Zara giggled, bringing the teen boy back to the present. "He's really not as hard-hearted as he would have the rest of the Temple believe. Come, I'll help you through kata fifteen again!"

Obi-Wan nodded and reignited his lightsabre, feeling more positive then he had in the last several weeks.

***

It was too soon when Master Drallig finally called an end to the class, sending the students on their way to eat. Obi-Wan looked up from where he and Zara had been working on the kata, disappointed. "Already?"

Zara sighed before turning her jade-green lightsabre off. "It appears so. Don't worry though, you have improved immensely! Your Master ought to be proud of you!"

Obi-Wan stiffened. The scars on his arms burned. "Um, yeah. I suppose he would be."

Zara looked Obi-Wan in the face, gripping his elbow and forcing him to stop walking towards the change rooms. "What's wrong, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Nothing bad."

"Why don't I believe a word coming from your mouth? What's so bad you can't tell anyone else about it?"

Obi-Wan shifted his weight. "Just… I don't know… it's really hard to explain. But I've got it under control, so there's nothing to worry about. Honest."

Zara frowned. "If you're certain, Obi-Wan…" She released his arm and walked to the girls' change room, allowing Obi-Wan to escape to the boys'.

By the time he'd gotten to a stall to change, he was shaking. _That was too close! I can't let anyone else know about the scars!_ He carefully pulled the sweat-drenched tunic over his head, trying not to gasp aloud as the salty liquid brushed his wounded arms. The most recent cut, on his right forearm from last night, was slightly reopened, leaving a red smudge on the tunic sleeve. Obi-Wan winced as he put pressure on the wound, tears threatening to escape his eyes. _Maybe I should have bandaged it… No, Qui-Gon would have seen it and found out about the other cuts._

He finished changing and stepped out of the stall, only to meet Bruck Chun. "Well, well, if it isn't Oafy-Wan Kenobi! Tardy as well!" The taller teenager stepped around Obi-Wan, shoving him. "How come Master Troll hasn't put you in detention yet, shrimp? Hmm?"

Obi-Wan glared at Bruck. "My Master kept me behind for a few moments. Master Drallig is going to speak with him."

"Ooh? I think you're just The Troll's favourite! Everyone knows he gives special attention to the pathetic students, the ones who are really horrible! Why else do you think he was talking to you? Why else did he assign his Padawan to tutor you?"

"Shut up! That's not true!"

"Oh, yeah? How much do you want to bet on that? I know he's going to tell your Master how much of a horrible student you are!"

"Go away." Obi-Wan's voice was little more then a whisper.

"Ha! Everyone knows Master Jinn only chose you because Master Yoda wanted him to. But after what happened on Lavisar, even Master Yoda thinks you'd be better off in the Agri-Corps. At least there you aren't killing people!"

It was too much. Obi-Wan fled past Bruck and out of the change room, hearing the other boy laugh. _Force, is that true? Is that why Qui-Gon decided to take me?_ The accumulating tears burned his eyes, making it hard to see where he was going.

He somehow managed to get to the Room of a Thousand Fountains without being stopped. Almost everyone was at dinner, leaving the hallways empty. He'd thought he heard someone call his name but didn't stop to heed to speaker. _Run, Kenobi. Run to where it won't hurt anymore._

He sank to his knees in a secluded corner of the garden, gasping for air. He pulled the knife out of its pouch, where it had been waiting for the next chance to draw his blood. Gripping the handle tightly in his sweaty hand, he placed the edge of the blade against his right forearm.

One cut. He would never slit deep enough to do serious damage to himself, just enough to draw his own blood. Just enough to lessen the mental agony.

He gritted his teeth and braced himself. He had done this before; he could do it again. Just deep enough to break the skin…

"Obi-Wan!" The voice startled him. The knife slipped from his clammy hands and dug into his wrist. He gasped as the metal broke through the vein, causing blood to flow out of his body at an alarming rate. His fingers already felt numb.

A cry drew his gaze upwards from the pool of blood underneath his hand. Zara knelt beside him, horror engraved on her face. Obi-Wan tried to smile at her, but instead winced as he began to feel light-headed. _Force, no! I wasn't going to cut that deeply! This isn't the way it was supposed to happen! I didn't want Zara to see this!_

Zara grabbed Obi-Wan's blood-covered hand, elevating it in an attempt to lessen the blood-flow. Her tunic was rapidly becoming red as his blood dripped onto her legs, not showing any signs of letting up. She screamed, obviously desperate to attract attention, but there was no one else in the garden.

Obi-Wan could feel himself falling to the side, weak from blood loss. Master Yoda's sorrowful face filled his mind's eye, causing the young Padawan grief. _I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!_

_Yeah, sure you didn't,_ retorted a voice within Obi-Wan's skull. _You didn't intend to kill yourself all along. Of course._

_Shut up!_

_Make me! You know we've won! You are going to die, alone, friendless, helpless!_

_Zara's here! She'll call for help!_

_From who? Master Drallig? Do you think he'd come to help you? Face it; no one is going to save you now!_

_No!_ Obi-Wan struggled to retain his consciousness. He was vaguely aware of Zara bending over his prone form, frantically saying something. "Obi-Wan, hang on! I'm calling my Master, he'll be here soon! Just don't die on me, please!"

Panic was beginning to set into Obi-Wan's oxygen-deprived brain. With one final surge of consciousness, he mentally screamed, /_Master!_/ before fading into oblivion.

***

Qui-Gon and Cin Drallig were walking through another garden in the Temple, discussing Obi-Wan's training. Cin was elaborating how well Obi-Wan had done during the kata exercises while Qui-Gon was silent, nodding when necessary. He was secretly well-pleased with his Padawan, almost proud… until he remembered Lavisar. That was enough for him to be upset with the teen all over again.

"He's fairly advanced for someone his age, above most of the rest of the class. I'd like to give him private lessons so he can advance to the senior Padawan classes sooner, if that's all right with you Qui-Gon. He'll be ready for those classes soon." Cin paused, studying his fellow Master's face with intensity. "Qui-Gon?"

"Hmm?" Qui-Gon turned from his musings. "Oh, pardon me, Cin. Yes, if you feel he warrants private tutelage, by all means that's fine with me. He'll learn more from you then he would from me anyways. He doesn't even listen to me."

"That's not true." Cin's brown eyes focused on Qui-Gon's sapphire. "He believes you are the perfect, unfailing Jedi. I spoke with him today in class, and he was stunned to realize you are not the perfect Jedi he thinks you are. Haven't you noticed the subtle signs he has adopted while trying to be more like you? Rigorous training like you do in your spare time, studying the same types of reading material you like, robes styled similar to yours. He's even drinking tea now! How can you not see this boy idolizes you?!"

Qui-Gon was in shock. Going over all of Obi-Wan's little idiosyncrasies, he realized Cin was speaking the truth. How had he not seen this? Had he hurt the boy with his coldness?

Cin suddenly stiffened, his eyes going out of focus. A moment later, he was on high alert and running through the garden to the exit, fear rippling from him through the Force. Qui-Gon was left standing still, confused. What had made the normally calm Master Drallig up and run for no apparent reason? _Maybe his Padawan's hurt. That must be it. But how could she hurt herself badly enough in the Temple to…_

He gasped in horror as Obi-Wan's faint cry came to him. _/Master!/_ The boy sounded weak, as if he was severely wounded.

Qui-Gon raced after Cin, following the weak bond to his Padawan. It was only a few steps later, however, when the bond faded. He hesitated for a moment before hurrying to catch up with Cin. "What did your Padawan tell you?"

Cin glanced over his shoulder, not slowing down. "She found yours in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, bleeding. It looks like he slit his own wrists. She doesn't know how long he's going to last for." He pulled his com out of his pocket and contacted the Healers, asking them to get to the garden as quickly as was possible.

_Slit his own wrists? Cin must have missed something from Zara in the bond. Obi-Wan would never do that… would he?_

Qui-Gon felt his heart shatter into a million pieces when he got to the garden to find the worst sight he had ever seen; Zara, kneeling over Obi-Wan's pale form. The big Master knelt, automatically ripping off the sleeve of his robe and pressing it against the gaping wound in his Padawan's wrist. He tried to ignore the multitude of other scars adorning the boy's wrists.

He didn't miss the blood-stained dagger that rested in the grass beside Obi-Wan's hand.

***gasp* Cliff-hanger! Just to drive you all nuts while I write diplomas! =)**

**Sorry this took a while, I have a multitude of excuses (Graduating in 14 days! Yippee! (plus two jobs, karate class, class trips, studying, DIPLOMAS, yada yada yada) as to why this was delayed, and also as to why the next chapter won't be for a LONG while. I know, I give you a cliff-hanger and then tell you I won't be updating for a while…. Mwahahaha! Just kidding, it'll be as soon as I possibly can!**

**Maybe I should just get to the Star Wars universe and find the technology they use to clone people… Life would be less complicated! **

**Again, monstrous thanks and hugs to all my lovely reviewers and favourite-ers! (is that even a word?! Meh.) I *heart* you guys!!!**

**Update will be as soon as I can! In the meantime, I like reviews! *hint* =)**

**/XS\**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: *Force-shoves Obi-Wan and re-takes the Ring* FINALLY! I have regained my One Ring that allows me all copyright privileges to great works of literature! MWAHAHA- *Yoda hits me with his stick and runs off with the Ring* Ye-OUCH!!!! *hops up and down rubbing bruised leg* Evil little Jedi Master has the Ring… I don't…. YET!**

**Sorry this took so long, graduation and stuffs got in the way… yeah. Feel special, readers, my LOTR story is on hold because of you! That's right, I'm talking to you!**

**On with the show!**

Obi-Wan lay unconscious on a bed in the Healer's Ward. An intravenous line into his left arm provided him with blood to replace what he had lost in the garden. Bacta had been generously applied to the scars marring both arms, as far up as his elbows. Another intravenous line supplied desperately needed nutrients, in place of the numerous meals the teen had skipped. The healers predicted the young Jedi to be unconscious for the next few hours.

Qui-Gon had been confined to the waiting area ever since the healers had brought in his wounded Padawan. He had spent the time pacing, pausing only to gaze through the transparisteel at Obi-Wan. He had attempted meditation, but could find no peace. The Force, evidently, was sulking and not answering his need for peace.

Master Cin Drallig had accompanied Qui-Gon to the Healer's Ward, his Padawan right behind him. The other Master hadn't spoken to Qui-Gon since informing him of Obi-Wan's condition on the way to the gardens, but whether he was angry at the negligent Master, or merely lost in his own thoughts, Qui-Gon couldn't tell. His tiny Padawan, Zara, had barely spoken since the incident in the gardens, her Force presence radiating grief and sorrow. She, evidently, had been the first one to find Obi-Wan in the garden with slit wrists. Qui-Gon understood the girl's horror at coming upon a sight like that.

Silence reigned in the waiting room for almost an hour, broken only by the sounds of Qui-Gon's boots wearing a hole in the floor and by Master Drallig's slow breathing as he meditated on one of the hard chairs. Zara sat by Master Drallig's side, staring at the floor. Eventually her weak voice was heard, voicing one plaintive question: "Why?"

Cin came out of his trance, gently moving an arm to rest across his Padawan's shoulders. Qui-Gon could feel the inner struggle of the other Master as he tried to give reason to Obi-Wan's destructive actions. Finally, he answered, "I don't know, Padawan. I don't know why he would resort to that."

Zara slowly nodded. Her hands, held in front of her, were trembling violently. She remained otherwise still for a moment before suddenly turning to her Master and letting the tears fall. "It was my fault! I startled him and he flinched! He wouldn't have cut himself so badly if I hadn't scared him!"

Cin reached his other arm around Zara, cradling the distressed teen. He seemed to be searching for words, but none were exiting his mouth.

Qui-Gon looked up from his contemplation of the floor he was treading a hole through. "It wasn't your fault, little one. The blame rests with me alone." He could physically feel the weight of the guilt he bore pressing onto his shoulders, stooping him, making him look and feel many years older then his age. "I should have realized something was wrong long ago."

Zara glanced up from where her face was hidden in her Master's tunic, before lowering her gaze again. Qui-Gon sank into another chair, holding his head in his hands, but had barely resumed his study of the floor tiles before he heard Zara mumble, "He said nothing was wrong. He said everything was taken care of."

Cin glanced at Qui-Gon before lowering his ear to his Padawan. "What?"

Zara's hands tightened on the rough linen tunic. "I-I thought s-something was wrong today in the sabre class. I asked him about it, b-but he said it was n-nothing to worry about, t-that he'd taken care of everything." She started trembling again, despite her Master's arms tightening around her. "I'm such an idiot; I should have seen something was wrong…"

Qui-Gon looked down at the floor again, grief anew ripping through his heart. To first find his Padawan with a slit wrist, and evidence of regular cutting, and then to hear the boy wouldn't tell anyone what was wrong… What could possibly have driven the boy in his care to attempt suicide?

"Master Jinn?" A Healer stepped out of the room where Obi-Wan lay. Qui-Gon leapt to his feet, intending to get to his Padawan's side. The Healer, however, extended a long arm, effectively restraining the big Jedi. "I need to speak with you, before I let you in to see Padawan Kenobi." He turned to Cin and Zara, who were looking at the Healer with large, worried eyes. "He'll be fine, if that's what you're wondering. However, I must speak with Master Jinn alone."

Master Cin nodded before rising, an arm kept around Zara. He bent down and murmured something to her, waiting for her accepting nod before quietly leaving the waiting area. Qui-Gon watched his friend leave before turning back to the Healer. "How is he doing?"

The Healer sighed. "Physically, Master Jinn, your Padawan is fine. We're almost ready to remove the line supplying blood to him, although the nutrient line will have to stay in a while longer. He's very malnourished and dehydrated, not to mention the numerous scars on his arms. We've applied bacta to the cuts, so they are mostly healed now."

Qui-Gon pressed for more details. "But…"

"He is showing signs of severe emotional distress. His Force signature is infused with feelings of grief, pain, sorrow, and even self-loathing. His physical symptoms, the scars and the malnourishment, are typical with people who have suicidal impulses. I've had my Padawan speak with friends of Padawan Kenobi, and his recent actions, stemming from your mission to Lavisar onwards, lead me to believe that he is in serious need of a Soul Healer."

Qui-Gon felt distinctly nauseous. He tried to speak, but couldn't get the words to form in his mouth. He eventually managed to choke out, "Can I see my Padawan now?"

The Healer nodded, stepping aside to allow the tall Master into the small room. Qui-Gon's eyes immediately travelled the short distance to Obi-Wan's still form on the bed, still unconscious. A Healing apprentice was bent over Obi-Wan's form, gently removing the intravenous line supplying blood to the boy's arm. Qui-Gon stood out of her way until she had successfully removed the long needle and stepped away from the bed, before sitting on the small chair to the boy's right. He leant forwards, clasping Obi-Wan's cool pale hand in his, marvelling at how small the teen was. Obi-Wan was a decent height for his age and race, but looked much smaller in his tall Master's shadow. Qui-Gon sighed and shifted in the chair until he was somewhat comfortable before studying Obi-Wan's face, trying hard to not glance down at the scars marring the teen's wrists.

Eventually, however, his eyes dropped to the angry red lines on the otherwise perfect skin. With a shuddery inhale, Qui-Gon closed his eyes, his free hand reaching up to wipe away the tears making a bid for freedom. "Obi-Wan, why? Don't you know I'll listen to your pain? Am I that unapproachable?"

Oh, what Master Dooku would say know if he could see Qui-Gon in this position! The tall Jedi had never quite lived up to his own Master's expectations of the perfect Jedi and he knew it. He almost picked up his comm. link to call his Master, but then thought better of that idea. The last thing he needed was to hear how much of a failure he was.

He didn't know how long he had sat in that same position, sometime softly crying, sometimes etching Obi-Wan's face into his memory, before he heard the noise. A soft whirring noise, accompanied by Jedi-quiet footsteps. The accompanying Force signatures made Qui-Gon groan inwardly. The last two people he wanted to see…

"We heard about your apprentice from Master Drallig." Mace Windu pulled over the other chair from across the room and sat next to Qui-Gon. "Has he improved since you arrived?"

Qui-Gon numbly shook his head. "He hasn't woken up yet, even though the healers insist he's physically fine."

"Physically fine, hmmm. But emotionally stable, he is not." Yoda's flying chair hovered near Qui-Gon's head, opposite Master Windu. "Know you what caused this?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, Master. I cannot think of anything that would drive him to this."

"Do you know if he had any issues with his classes? His friends? Missions?" Mace placed a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder.

"No, Mace. I don't know of any struggles he had."

"Hmmm. With your apprentice, a close bond you have?"

Qui-Gon turned back around to face Yoda. "No different then the one I had with Master Dooku."

Yoda scowled.

Qui-Gon looked at the small Master with a moderate amount of worry. "What?"

"A weak bond, Dooku had with you! To that same coldness, subject Obi-Wan you must not! Hurting him, you are!"

"I… what? How am I hurting him, Master?"

"Too cold and distant you are to your Padawan! More then a teacher, you are. Treat him like that, you must!"

"Master Yoda is right" added Mace, forcing Qui-Gon to turn back to him. "You must show Obi-Wan you care for him."

Qui-Gon tensed. "I tried that once, and look where it left me! I don't need another Xanatos!" He suddenly yelped as Master Yoda's stick made contact with the side of his head.

The small, and now very irate, Master shook his stick at Qui-Gon. "Judge him under your first apprentice's shadow, you must not! A traitor to the Order, Obi-Wan is not! In need of acceptance and trust, he is! Treat him as such!" Fuming, Yoda lowered his stick, still glaring at Qui-Gon.

Still gingerly rubbing his head, Qui-Gon attempted to absorb what Yoda had just yelled at him. Had he really been harshly assuming Obi-Wan would end up the same as Xanatos? Had it hurt the teen, enough to push him to… this?

The other two Masters remained by Obi-Wan's bedside for another few minutes before taking their leave of Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon himself was barely aware of when they left. He took Obi-Wan's hand in his again, trying again to release his grief and frustration into the Force. However, the all-powerful presence skirted away from his questing touch, refusing the Master access to it's calm.

Qui-Gon sighed. _First Cin, then Yoda and Mace, now even the Force is angry at me! Sith, how much of a failure am I?_ One glance to the bed's occupant was enough of an answer.

With another sigh, he reached out and touched Obi-Wan's face. "Don't leave me, Padawan. At least give me a chance to apologize to you!"

***

He felt so tired. His eyelids felt like heavy weights. His arms felt like they had been injected with liquid lead, preventing him from moving. He was so warm and comfortable, he wanted to go back to sleep. He wondered if this was what death felt like. Maybe he had finally been released from his sufferings into the embrace of the Force.

_No._ If he were dead, he wouldn't be able to feel the slight prickling sensation in his wrists and arms of healing skin.

He could sense that someone was sitting above him, waiting for him to wake up. Through the Force, he could sense grief, sorrow, and guilt, emotions he was well acquainted with. He briefly wondered who it was, before inwardly shrugging. He was so tired, and wanted to sleep some more… this person could wait…

The Force whispered to him, coaxing him to wake up against his will. He reluctantly became more aware of his stiff and sore body, of the needle in his left arm, of his right hand being held by someone else, of a gentle touch on his cheek. A soft voice said something, but Obi-Wan couldn't sort out the words.

He groaned slightly with the effort of trying to open his eyes.

The being over him went tense, before Obi-Wan sensed it bending over him. The soft voice murmured, "Obi-Wan?" The hand on his face gently rubbed his cheekbone, encouraging him to open his eyes.

Obi-Wan tried to respond, but could muster no more then another moan.

"Come on, Padawan. Please wake up." The voice had a note of pleading in it, a desperation that Obi-Wan could read even without the Force. It was a man's baritone, one that sounded familiar, but Obi-Wan couldn't place it…

The Force whispered a name. _Qui-Gon_.

No. It couldn't be Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan's Master hated him! He was the reason for the scars lining Obi-Wan's arms now!

But… the Force was never wrong… was it?

With an effort, he managed to open his eyes.

Qui-Gon stared down at him, relief and joy evident in his icy-blue eyes.

Obi-Wan struggled to open his mouth, to say something to his Master in apology for existing, for being such a burden. He eventually managed to whisper, "Master" but could get no further.

What happened next completely shocked Obi-Wan's exhausted brain. Qui-Gon bent all the way down and wrapped his arms around the teen's skinny frame. Tears were accumulating in the short coppery spikes adorning Obi-Wan's head. The whispered words came to the teen's ears, but he couldn't believe them.

"I'm sorry, my Padawan. I'm so sorry."

***

**Yay! I finally updated!! I know, it took forever… I sorry, really! Please don't hurt me!**

**All right, probably only one or two chapters after this one, this story is just about finished! Whoo-hoo! Go me! *ahem***

**Enormous thanks to all my lovely readers/reviews/favourite-ers, for sticking with me through all the grim morbid depressing stuff! Lotsa fluff next chapter, yippee! Haha! Seriously, it makes my day when I get reviews from authors whose work I read on a fairly regular basis! You guys ROCK!**

**All right, I'll try to get the next chapter out soon-ish… after I appease all my LOTR readers… (Feel free to check out that story to! *hint hint*)**

**Ciao!**

**Xaja **


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: *jumps Yoda and steals the Ring* FINALLY! My One Ring that allows me all copyrights to all great and not-so-great works of literature! Yes! *Master Drallig tackles me and runs off with the Ring* Aw, DARN IT!**

**So, as I suppose you have surmised, Star Wars ain't mine. Lucas owns it all... for the moment. I also don't own the song lyrics in the story. The song is called "Cut" by an amazing artist called Plumb. Check her out!**

**Thanks for waiting so patiently (or not so patiently...) for this update. My list of reasons for not updating sooner include: My LOTR story, work, writer's block, an original fiction I'm trying to write, and travelling halfway across Canada with my two hyper-active little brothers. That's enough of an excuse right there!**

**Warning: This chapter may be a tear-jerker. Major mush alert!! I am not responsible for any deaths resulting from the epidemic of "fuzzywarm" that will inevitably result from this chapter! You have been warned! **

***ahem* On with the show!**

Obi-Wan was in too much shock to do anything more then lie motionless, surprise stilling his entire body. His cold, aloof Master, of whom it was rumoured the fires of Mustafar couldn't melt his heart, was embracing him? Apologizing to him for something that wasn't his fault? Hoth must have melted.

Although, he couldn't deny that the feelings of warmth spreading through him were pleasant. He couldn't remember the last time that someone had hugged him this close, with this much care. He tenativley reached his right arm up around his Master's waist.

The grip around his back tightened. Encouraged, Obi-Wan pressed his face against Qui-Gon's chest, the cloth of the tunic scratching his cheek. He let the soothing rhythm of Qui-Gon's heart relax him.

Neither moved for several minutes, until Qui-Gon finally sat up, his embrace loosening. His gaze focused on Obi-Wan's grey eyes, seriousness in his own sapphire orbs. "Are you all right, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan thought for a moment, registering his body's condition. "I feel fine, Master." That was true, at least physically. His left arm still ached where the needle penetrated his skin, and he had a slight headache from blood loss, but those were details his Master wouldn't care about.

The questioning tilt of one eyebrow was enough to convince him otherwise. "My arm aches from the needle, and I feel a little dizzy. It's not bad though."

Qui-Gon shifted slightly on the edge of the bed where he was seated. "That is good to hear, Obi-Wan, but I wasn't referring only to your physical state of being." He touched Obi-Wan's shoulder. "What's going on in your mind? You scared even the Council in the gardens. There's something wrong, and I believe it's been hurting you for a long while now. Am I correct?"

Obi-Wan looked down at the sheet covering his lower body, not meeting his Master's eyes. How could he tell Qui-Gon, his distant Master, what was wrong? He would never understand. "It's not something you could help with" he mumbled, refusing to look up.

A gentle hand lifted his chin, forcing him to meet the older Jedi's gaze. Qui-Gon's Force signature radiated concern. "Why can't I help you, Padawan? I'm your Master. I need to know what's going on."

He was met with silence. Qui-Gon felt desperate to know what was hurting his Padawan so. His voice cracked slightly as he whispered, "Please, Obi-Wan. Tell me."

Obi-Wan's eyes lowered again, despite the fingers under his chin. "I don't know where to begin."

"The beginning is a good spot." Qui-Gon lowered his hand from Obi-Wan's chin, moving to rest an arm across the boy's shoulder. "Why don't you start by telling me when you first started feeling this horrible?"

_{It may seem crazy; I'm painfully shy_

_And these scars wounldn't be so hidden if you would just look me in the eye_

_I feel alone here and cold here, though I don't wanna die_

_But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside}_

So Obi-Wan did. He recounted his pain in the months after Bandomeer, before the mission to Lavisar. He told of how he hadn't been able to eat anything during those months, and how he felt that he was unwanted. He spoke of his guilt in the deaths of the innocents resulting from his own stupidity, including Daran. He recounted how he had been made to feel like a failure by the bitter survivors, and his own emotions when Qui-Gon hadn't even listened to his side of the story. He told how the knife wound had alleviated the emotional pain a little bit. He talked about how tempted he had been to take his own life, and so relieve his Master and the rest of the Jedi Order from what he percieved to be the largest burden they had. He recounted the voices in his head, and how they had steadily encouraged him to give up. He spoke of how the cutting became an addiction, the impulse triggered by anything, ranging from stress in class to the slightest teasing, including Bruck's cruel taunt in the changeroom. He ended with saying how he hadn't meant to cut this deeply, but he had been startled by Zara in the gardens.

With his eyes focused on the blanket over him, he whispered, "I didn't think you would care enough about me to help, especially after Lavisar. I didn't want to give you anymore of a reason to hate me. I thought that if I just cut enough to release the stress, I would be able to live with this without you knowing."

Qui-Gon, who up to this point remained silent, softly whispered, "Is this why you didn't tell me? Because you thought I would hate you?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

The Master sighed. "Obi-Wan, I have never hated you. I have been upset with you, disrespectful of you, even angry, but I would never, ever hate you. I wish you had come to me earlier, so that I could help you. Did you tell anyone that this was happening?"

Obi-Wan continued his inspection of the blanket, not daring to meet his Master's eyes. "No. I.. I felt as though no one would understand." He suddenly looked up at Qui-Gon. "Is there something wrong with me? Am I going to be locked up or put on medication? Is this normal for kids like me to... to cut?"

Qui-Gon squeezed the boy's shoulder. "No, Padawan. This isn't normal, for you to hate yourself so much that you would attempt suicide. However, you are not to blame." He touched his apprentice's face. "This is my fault, and my fault alone, for making you feel this way. I should have been aware of the bullying from Bruck, as well as others. I should have listened to your pain after Lavisar and helped you through it. I should have made you feel loved and accepted in the beginning when I first took you as my Padawan. I am the only person to blame for everything you've gone through since you became my apprentice, and for that I beg your forgiveness."

Obi-Wan remained still, unable to accept his Master's words. He'd heard them, but their meaning was lost. Only yesterday, in his eyes anyways, his Master had despised him, had regretted taking him as his apprentice, yet now he was apologizing for every cold word spoken, every attempt at friendship brushed away. _I must still be unconscious from the blood loss. I'll wake up and realize this was nothing more then a dream. Qui-Gon will still be the heartless Master he was yesterday, and the day before that, all the way back to that sithly tournament before I got shipped off to the Agri-Corps._ However, he had forgotten to erect the mental shields meant to keep his thoughts private, and every emotion he felt was coming through the weak bond he had with Qui-Gon, worrying the Master.

Qui-Gon reached his hand up to Obi-Wan's temple. He concentrated the Force within him before sending a wave- no, an ocean- of love, acceptance, and genuine sorrow to Obi-Wan, hearing a soft gasp in return. The boy's shock resonated through the room, followed by a faint feeling of disbelief, mingled with hope and love.

Tears began to stream down Obi-Wan's face as he felt the depths of acceptance his Master had to offer him, sensed the sincere apology, and accepted the older Jedi's offering of love. He was vaguely aware of Qui-Gon's arms encircling him in a tight embrace. Not heeding the intravenous needle still in his left arm, Obi-Wan returned the hug, burying his head in the Master's chest. He could feel the moisture accumulating on the crown of his head, could sense his Master's shoulders shaking. The quiet sobs above him encouraged him to let go, and he did just that, pouring his pain out into the rough tunic into which he had nuzzled his face.

They remained still for some time, communicating through their newly-strengthened bond, sharing love, strength and peace with each other. When they finally broke the embrace, the faces of both were tear-streaked, but peaceful and content. Qui-Gon smiled gently as he released Obi-Wan. "How about we see if the Healers will let you out, then we head to the fountain gardens to meditate?"

Obi-Wan smiled shyly. "I would enjoy that, Master." A loud growl sounded from his abdomen, startling both Master and Padawan. The teen glanced down guiltily at his stomach for a moment before looking back up, a quirky grin on his face. "Of course, meditation is good and all, but feeding your Padawan is important as well."

Qui-Gon laughed out loud as he wiped one final time at his eyes. "There's the Obi-Wan we know and love! I think a trip to visit a friend of mine is in order. His name's Dexter, and he is undoubtedly the best cook I know. Wait for a moment, I'll call a Healer to check you over." He rose to his feet and gave Obi-Wan a soft squeeze on the shoulder as he stepped to the doorway, where he knew a Healer would be lurking.

Obi-Wan relaxed against the pillows, returning his Master's smile. Things would be all right now, he was sure of it. He knew his Master truly did love him, and wasn't the cold, heartless person he had feared.

He pushed the blankets off his body. He had a Master to become better acquainted with.

**Is it... could it be?... I FINISHED a multi-chapter story! Woot! Go me!! *ahem* Albiet with a short chapter, but finished nonetheless!**

**Thanks to all the readers/reviewers who have stuck with me from the moment the first chapter made an appearance on the site, you guys ROCK! And for those of you who didn't jump on the bandwagon until now... Hope you enjoyed it! I don't care when you end up reading this; if you liked it, send me a review, anytime within the next millenium! I will probably answer it!**

**Thanks again, guys, you are epically amazing! You motivate me to write! Without your encouragment I probably would have said, "Screw this" after the first chapter. Honestly, you are the bread and butter to writers everywhere, as I'm sure most of you know firsthand!**

**Y'know the drill, read and review! **

**(Ooh! Kinda random, but if anyone has some good creative hiccup cures, give me a holler via PM! Hint: it has to do with a SW one-shot that I'm thinking of writing! Anyways...)**

**Later, peebs!**

**Xaja**


End file.
